Coming Back
by JaimeHP
Summary: Hermione left Ron in rage and upset. Seven years later they're reunited and secrets they've kept from each other are revealed.COMPLETE (finally)
1. Reunited

Disclaimer: If I owned this I'd be in a castle in Scotland...and I'm not :- ( ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron Weasley sat in the café, sipping his tea, thinking about what he was doing in Typic Alley in New York City. He had traveled over 3,000 miles to find a woman he hadn't seen for seven years. A woman he had loved with all his heart, his best friend; Hermione Granger.  
  
He knew where she was, where she lived, and where she worked. He had spent years looking for her. When he received an owl from a correspondent saying they had found her, he had grabbed a portkey and came right over without thinking.  
  
Now he was afraid. She had walked out of their flat and out of his life saying that it was no use trying to make a relationship work without Harry. They fought too much. It wasn't meant to be.  
  
He wanted to find her, but he was scared about what she might say. Would she tell him that she left for a reason? Would she say it was no use coming because she never wanted to see his face again? Would she be married and laugh at how pathetic he was for coming to find him after all these years?  
  
Ron tightened his cloak around himself and looked longingly out the window. He saw a bushy-haired witch about his age stroll past. She looked like Hermione. Now you're hallucinating, Weasley, he though. He looked back to see the same woman coming through the door of the café. He rubbed his eyes as the woman walked up to the counter and said, "I'll have an orange tea, and one of those big, chocolate cookies."  
  
He chuckled. She had a British accent. He knew his mind was getting the better of him. The woman tucked the cookie into her purse, took a sip of tea and turned around.  
  
Ron snapped his head down so she wouldn't see him staring. When he glanced up, the woman was looking at him strangely. No, it couldn't be. Ron squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, the woman was slowly approaching him.  
  
They made eye contact, she smiled and asked, "R...Ron, is that you?"  
  
A huge grin spread across Ron's face as he replied, "Hermione?" Before he could think, he was enveloped in a hug, surrounded by a mass of bushy brown hair.  
  
She pulled back and gasped, "I can't believe I'm seeing you."  
  
"Me neither!" Ron was practically shaking with excitement.  
  
Hermione felt the same way. "So, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Well...I...I had some time off of work, so I thought I'd take a vacation, you know, see the sights," Ron lied.  
  
"Oh, that's great! Do you want to go to lunch or something?" She squealed like a little schoolgirl.  
  
Ron nodded vigorously.  
  
"I know a cute little place around the corned. C'mon, we'll eat there." Hermione told him, leading him out the door. They walked around the corner, their shoulders brushing occasionally, sending a familiar chill up Ron's spine.  
  
When they arrived at the tiny sidewalk café, a charming French man quickly greeted Hermione.  
  
"Ah, Ms. Granger!" He said, amiably. "How are you zis fine afternoon?"  
  
"I'm just wonderful, Jean-Claude. May we have a table for two?"  
  
"Of course, right zis way. May I inquire, where is you uzzer half?"  
  
Hermione cleared her throat and changed the subject. "May we hear the specials," she said forcefully, taking a seat across from Ron.  
  
This irked Ron. As Jean-Claude recited the day's specials he thought silently, So, she is married. I feel like such an imbecile.  
  
Hermione must have noticed the look on his face because she quickly asked, "Are you all right?"  
  
He smiled falsely and said, "I'm perfectly fine. So, who is this other half of yours? Are you married?"  
  
"No, I'm not married," she laughed. "He's just this guy. What about you, any significant others?"  
  
"There have been some girls. Nothing serious."  
  
"Well, what else have you been up to? What are you doing now?"  
  
"I'm a healer, just like we planned." He sighed, remembering when they were a "we," planning their future.  
  
"Me too. I mean, it wasn't easy, but I made it."  
  
"Wasn't easy? For you?" Hermione's remark threw Ron off guard. He had made it through Healer training, struggling only for the first year, and cruising through the rest. How could what was simple for him be difficult for the most amazing witch in the world?  
  
"I...I had other complications in my life. You know, I was in a country I had only visited once before. I had no job and no money." She explained herself quickly, placing her hand on the table.  
  
Ron set his hand gingerly atop hers and said softly, "You don't have to justify yourself to me."  
  
They gazed into each other's eyes, sharing a moment much like they had when they were 17 years old. Unfortunately, the connection was broken when Jean- Claude appeared, asking their orders. Hermione scanned her menu quickly and ordered a salad. Ron ordered the same, trusting Hermione's judgment.  
  
"So," Hermione started the conversation after Jean-Claude had stepped away, "how's your sister?"  
  
"Oh, Ginny. She's great." Ron replied, nodding.  
  
"So she...moved on?" Hermione asked with difficulty,  
  
"It was hard for her. When Harry died, she was as devastated as we were, if not more. After you left, and she finished Hogwarts, she moved into my flat. Every other weekend we'd go out on dates and we'd both arrive back at the flat around ten, and we'd just sit in front of the fire, thinking, wishing. Then one night, I came back, and I waited for her. She didn't come home till after midnight, but she came in dancing. She told me she had found him. He was the one. The one who would help her move on from Harry." Ron sighed deeply, "Now they're married and expecting their first child."  
  
"That's wonderful, Ron. Send her my congratulations."  
  
"Yeah, I'm really happy for her." That was a lie and Ron knew it. He wasn't happy for her. He was insanely jealous of his sister. It wasn't fair that she could move on and be content with her life when he was still pining over the woman who had walked out on him so many years before. Tell her, Ron! A tiny voice chimed in his head. Tell her you still love her!  
  
The food arrived shortly and they made small talk for a while. They laughed about old memories, and spoke somberly about Harry. They discussed the field of healing and the differences between American and British wizardry. Ron caught Hermione up on what their old Hogwarts friends were doing. After the bill came, and they argued for a few minutes over who would pay and ended up splitting it, they sat in silence for a moment.  
  
"Hermione," Ron began, his voice quavering, "what...what happened between us?"  
  
Hermione looked sternly at the man across from her. He squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. She reminded him of his mother when he had done something wrong. "You know as well as I do what happened." She said. "We fought too much. Without Harry to mediate, we just couldn't do it. It wasn't a positive environment for any of us."  
  
"But you left! We didn't even try!" Ron raised his voice.  
  
"Keep it down, Ron." Hermione whispered forcefully. She placed her hand on her forehead as if she had a headache. "Why do you have to bring this up now? It's been 7 years! We only knew each other for that long!" She glanced at her watch. "Damn! I have to go, Ron." She said quietly.  
  
"Well, can I see you again?" Ron pleaded.  
  
"No, Ron," Hermione looking straight into his eyes. "I had a lovely afternoon. I really missed you. Maybe our paths will cross again some day." She tried to smile as tears formed in her eyes. She extended her hand for Ron to shake but he just stood before her.  
  
"Why not?!" Ron was nearly crying himself.  
  
"I have to go," Hermione reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek, then stood and turned to walk away. Ron leapt from his seat and grabbed her arm.  
  
"I didn't come three thousand miles just to see you for an hour!"  
  
"You what? You came to find me?" Hermione fumed.  
  
"Yes!" Ron gasped, "I searched for you and now that I've found you I'm not letting you go!"  
  
Hermione fought his grasp. "Yes you are! Get off of me!" She freed herself and ran out of the café.  
  
Ron glanced around at all of the people staring at them but ran after Hermione hastily. "Don't leave me again, Hermione!" He screamed across the crowd of people in the alley. He moved as quickly as possible and cast a quick leg-locking curse on her. As she countered it, he caught up to her and took hold of her arm again.  
  
"Where do you have to go that's so important?!" He demanded. She worked to get away as Ron continued yelling, "Where, Hermione, Where? Where?! WHERE?!!!!!"  
  
She couldn't take it any longer. Her head was pounding and Ron's vice-like grip on her arm was killing her. She mustered up all of her strength, pulled away, and screamed, "I have to pick up Harry! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: So, there it is! Chapter 1! I hope everyone liked it and I NEED A BETA! Tell me if you know one. Chapter 2 should be up in about a week or so. Now review, please. 


	2. Harry

A/N: Well, thanks to the 6 of you who reviewed to my last chapter. Your feedback is much appreciated. Well, enjoy chapter 2!  
  
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"I have to pick up Harry!"  
  
Instead of running like she had intended to, Hermione stood, staring at Ron. She bit her lip and whimpered, "I shouldn't have told you that."  
  
"You're damn right, you shouldn't have!" Ron screamed. "Harry! Harry?! So this is the 'uzzer half' your friend Jean-Claude was referring to? That's sick, Hermione. How can you be with someone named Harry? You're probably just trying to replace our Harry, aren't you?"  
  
Tears flowed freely down both Ron and Hermione's cheeks now. "Go home, Ron! I hate you!" Hermione sobbed.  
  
"No," He cried. "Please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Just don't go!"  
  
"I told you, Ron, I have to pick someone up!"  
  
"I don't even understand this!" He said venomously. "How can you be with some guy named HARRY who can't Apparate or drive go anywhere himself and needs you to retrieve him?"  
  
"Well, I wouldn't expect him to, Ron! He's six years old!"  
  
"So you're babysitting? That's why you have to go? Bloody hell, Hermione! Let me meet you later, then! I'll do anything!"  
  
"Babysitting, Ron?" She laughed ironically through her tears. "Harry isn't just a child I look after for a friend sometimes. He's the child I have too look after all the time."  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
"Harry's my son, Ron, my child."  
  
Ron stopped crying abruptly and found himself short of breath. "W...W...What?" He forced out, his voice cracking, "Y...you...you have a son?"  
  
Hermione wiped her eye and nodded.  
  
"I can't believe you!" He screamed. "We chat all afternoon and you fail to mention that you have a child!"  
  
"I'm sorry." Hermione said meekly.  
  
"Hermione," Ron took a deep breath and prepared to face the inevitable, "you said he's six. Is he...mine?"  
  
She sobbed and nodded slowly, looking Ron in the eye.  
  
"How could you?" Ron whispered.  
  
Hermione shook her head and looked at the ground. They stood together in the middle of the busy alleyway crying for a minute that felt like an eternity. Hermione checked her watch again, placed her hand on Ron's arm, and said, "Come with me."  
  
Ron gulped, "All right."  
  
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10 minutes later Ron found himself approaching a Muggle elementary school with Hermione at his side. He didn't see any children or cars around. All he noticed was a very stern woman who reminded him of professor McGonagall in a bad mood. She was wearing an ugly brown dress and had her hair cut above her ears.  
  
"Damn," Hermione swore to herself upon seeing this woman. She placed a fake smile on her face and with fake enthusiasm said, "Mrs. Walterbee, how are you this afternoon?"  
  
"Ms. Granger!" Mrs. Walterbee scolded, "Of all days to be late! Your son is in the principal's office!"  
  
"What?" Hermione gasped, "What happened?"  
  
"Harry got in a fight today." Mrs. Walterbee said in very condescending way.  
  
"Is he all right?"  
  
"He's fine, but the other little boy has a broken arm. The principal has requested a conference with you. Please go to his office immediately."  
  
"Okay," Hermione said nervously. She walked past Mrs. Walterbee and towards a small building with a sign that said "MAIN OFFICE" above it. Ron followed close behind, but was stopped by an angry Mrs. Walterbee who said, "This is strictly between the principal and the parent. Please wait here sir."  
  
Ron paused a moment before retorting, "Well...I am-"  
  
"No!" Hermione cut him off. "Go sit on that bench over there," She pointed, "He's had a stressful enough day as it I'm sure. We'll be out in a few minutes. Stay there even when we come out. I'll need to talk to him and prepare him before he meets you. Do you understand?"  
  
"Fine," Ron grumbled.  
  
Hermione turned and headed through the door with Mrs. Walterbee at her heels. "Who was that?" She asked.  
  
"The sperm donor." Hermione said rolling her eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~  
  
"Hi, Harry. I'm your dad. Sorry we've never met, but I think you should blame your mother for that. She walked out on me without a trace and although I forgave her and spent your entire life looking for her, she still didn't mention you when we had lunch today. Must've been fun being raised by her without a father." Ron muttered to himself. He sniggered. "No, I don't think that'll work." He repositioned himself on the incredibly uncomfortable wooden bench.  
  
He had spent the last 15 minutes trying to figure out what to say when he met Harry for the first time. He wanted to say something profound, comforting, and most of all, fatherly. He tried to imagine what he would have wanted Arthur to say to him if they were meeting for the first time. The only problem was he had never been without his father. He had no idea how that must feel.  
  
Suddenly he felt a slight pang in his heart. Harry, the first Harry, had never known his father. In sixth year, Harry had told Ron about Snape's pensieve. Harry had been so disappointed by his father. Would Ron disappoint his son?  
  
A moment later, though, all coherent thoughts disappeared from Ron's head as he saw Hermione emerge from the office, roughly tugging the elbow of a small redheaded child. They stopped a ways away from where he was sitting, so the child wouldn't see him.  
  
Hermione crossed her arms and looked down at the boy. "All right, Harry. Tell me what really happened."  
  
Harry simply bowed his head.  
  
"Why did you get into a fight today?" Hermione asked, sounding more concerned than aggravated.  
  
Harry looked up sadly. "Alex said that his mommy said he wasn't allowed to play with me anymore because of...because of..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You."  
  
Hermione took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. She knew about the gossip the mothers spread about her behind her back. They called her a slut and a whore. They said that even if the medical school story was true, she was probably working her way through as a stripper.  
  
"And then what happened?" She continued despite her rage.  
  
"I pushed him and he fell." Harry said, looking at the ground.  
  
Hermione pulled her hand under his chin and looked him in the eye. "Tell me the truth, Harry Arthur. You've never hit anyone before. Did you push him or did his arm just break."  
  
"It just broke. Are you mad at me?"  
  
"No," Hermione sighed, "of course not. It's okay to have magical outbursts once in while. We just have to get control of your temper, that's all." She pulled a large cookie out of her purse and handed it to him. "I got this for you today."  
  
Harry smiled, took it, and hugged Hermione around her waist. "Thanks, mom." He said.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath, and placed her hands on her son's shoulders, taking a step back. "Harry," she said soothingly, "someone came to see me today."  
  
"Who?" He asked curiously.  
  
"His name's Ronald."  
  
"That's my dad's name!" Harry giggled.  
  
"Yes, it is. Do you want to meet him?"  
  
"Your friend?"  
  
"Your dad."  
  
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A/N: YAY!! Chapter 2 is finally finished. Okay, I know the cliffhanger isn't as good as last time, but I hope I still have your interest.  
  
Oh, by the way, did you get the irony of the broken arm thing? Has anyone else ever told his or her mother that the other kid just magically got a black eye? Lol.  
  
Please take a few seconds to review. All I need is one word (ex: good, bad, boring, ect.). Have a great weekend everyone! 


	3. Bonding

A/N: I know that in the last chapter they sort of skip from the city to the suburbs, so let's just say they apparated and we missed it, okay? Any new characters introduced in this chapter are from the past and will not turn into "Mary-sue" or "Joe Shmoe." They are solely for the purpose of saying that there have been other people in Hermione's life since she left England. Oh, by the way, I borrowed the Jr. Broomstick idea from Bella O. All right, on with the fic.  
  
But first, review replies:  
  
Astral-monkey: PLEASE tell me you didn't turn the dryer on!  
  
Adipodes Poe: Thanks for the compliment. I try so hard to have believable dialogue. I hate in movies, books, or fics when the dialogue is crap. It kills me.  
  
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Harry gasped, "My dad! He's here?" Worry filled his eyes. "Is he here because I got in trouble?"  
  
"Of course not," Hermione consoled. "He came to see me and we talked about you and we decided it was time for you two to meet each other. So do you want to?"  
  
Harry gulped. "I'm scared."  
  
"Of him?"  
  
"That he won't like me."  
  
"Harry," she looked at him meaningfully and comfortingly, "you have absolutely nothing to worry about. The question is, are you ready to meet him?"  
  
Harry thought for a moment. He had wanted to meet the man in the picture beside his mother's bed since before he could remember, and now that he was presented with the opportunity, he was not sure that he wanted it.  
  
"I can send him back to his hotel or his home if you want me to, but Harry, he really wants to get to know you." Hermione said solemnly.  
  
"Okay," Harry nodded, puffing out his chest, "I'm ready."  
  
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Ron watched the scene in silence, unable to hear what they were saying. He saw them turn and Hermione put a hand on the child's shoulder to guide him. He stood up and took a deep breath to calm himself.  
  
The child looked extremely nervous but was making an obvious effort to hide it. Hermione stopped in front of Ron and said, "Say, 'hello,'"  
  
"H-Hi." Ron said uneasily. "I'm..." Unsure of what to introduce himself as he looked to Hermione who mouthed, "Ron." "I'm Ron." He said looking at his son.  
  
"Hi. I'm Harry." The child extended his hand.  
  
Ron took it with both hands to shake, savoring the first contact with his son. He let go reluctantly as Harry looked at him questioningly. "So you're my dad?" He asked.  
  
"I am." Ron nodded.  
  
They stood in silence, searching each other's eyes. Ron wanted to reach out and hug him, hold him, never let him go. He loved this redheaded, freckle- faced boy more than anyone in the universe, and he'd only just met him. He suddenly resented Hermione for keeping Harry from him.  
  
After a few moments Hermione spoke up, "It's getting a bit chilly out here. Let's get going home. You two can get acquainted better there. Come on." Hermione took Harry's hand and he reluctantly turned as she tugged at him to go with her. Ron followed.  
  
They quickly exited the school parking lot, walked a few blocks, and came to a small, yellow house.  
  
"Is this where you live?" Ron asked apprehensively.  
  
"In the Muggle suburbs?" Hermione laughed as she knocked on the door. "Of course not. My cousin lives here. I use her address for the school and she's connected to the floo network. We get to my flat from here everyday. Isn't that right, Harry?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm," Harry answered quietly, looking at his feet.  
  
A young, blonde woman opened the entryway. She smiled and said, "Hi Hermio- " The woman stopped speaking and gasped upon seeing Ron standing beside Harry. She obviously recognized him. She tried to catch her breath and say something but no words came out.  
  
"Hello Claire," Hermione said as if nothing had happened, "this is Ron. Ron, this is Claire."  
  
Ron smiled benignly, "It's a pleasure to meet you."  
  
Claire simply gaped.  
  
"Well, we'll just be coming right through now," Hermione continued, stepping past her cousin and through the hall way and into the living room, Ron and Harry traveling close behind. She headed towards the mantle and pulled a small pot off of it. She lowered it to Harry's level and he took a handful of the powder within. He tossed it into the fireplace, hopped in and called, "My apartment!" He disappeared instantaneously.  
  
Hermione took Ron's hand, pulled him in, and did the same. Ron waved to the still stunned woman, as he was sucked into the network of fireplaces.  
  
He stepped out a moment later to find himself in a quaint little flat. The walls were painted a pale blue, and there was a small dining room table with a window to the kitchen beside it. He heard a door slam down the hall.  
  
"Wait here." Hermione said, gesturing to the sofa in front of them. "Harry's very shy and I think he's really mad at me. I'm going to talk to him. I'll be back in a moment."  
  
Ron nodded and headed for the couch, brushing the soot off of his clothes as he did. When he sat down, he scanned the top of the mantle. In the center there was a photograph of Harry and Hermione standing beside each other, waving merrily. Every so often Hermione would ruffle Harry's hair and he'd laugh. He watched the picture, entranced, for the few minutes before Hermione returned.  
  
"He's ready to talk to you now." She said quietly.  
  
Ron stood up. "Where-"  
  
"First door on the left."  
  
Ron nodded and headed down the hall. He stopped in front of the door he was told to go to. He took a deep breath and knocked softly. "Come in!" A voice called from inside. Ron turned the knob slowly and stepped into the small bedroom. It had light green walls, a full bookcase, a small desk, and most intriguing to Ron, a Chudley Cannon poster on the wall. Harry was seated on his bed looking at a picture book about Quidditch.  
  
"Hi Harry." Ron smiled.  
  
"Hi Ron." Harry replied. It send a pang to his heart that his own son called him by his first name, but he decided it would take a little bit of getting used to.  
  
"So," Ron tried to make conversation, "you like Quidditch?"  
  
Harry nodded enthusiastically. "I love it!" He exclaimed.  
  
"Have you ever played?"  
  
"Oh, yeah!" Harry dropped his book and leaned under his bed, pulling out a small broomstick labeled Cleansweep Jr. "Mom's old boyfriend, Albert, got me this broom. Mom didn't want him to, but when he said that he really wanted to Mom told him to get me a Cleansweep. He used to take me to the park and we'd play. He said I'd make a good seeker, but I like playing Keeper. But they broke up and I haven't played in a while." He babbled.  
  
Ignoring the comments about Hermione's old boyfriend, Ron asked, "Did you know I used to play Keeper on a Cleansweep?"  
  
"Really!?"  
  
"Definitely." Ron sat up full of pride for both himself and his son. "I helped win the Quidditch Cup for my house team. They even made up a song about me."  
  
"That's really cool. I can't wait to go to wizard school."  
  
"It'll be time before you know it." Ron chuckled, looking around the room, his eyes falling once again on the Chudley Cannons poster. "So, you like the Cannons?"  
  
"They're my favorite team!" Harry said joyfully. "Our neighbor, Mr. Shultz, has the Visual WWN and sometimes Mom lets me go over and watch them play."  
  
"I have the VWWN at my hotel. I think there's a game on tonight. Would you like to come over and watch it with me?" Ron suggested hopefully, "That is, if your mum's all right with it."  
  
"Well, come *on*!" Harry jumped off of the bed, grabbing Ron's arm. He dragged him from the bedroom across the hall into the room that appeared to be Hermione's. "Mom, can I *please* go with Ron to watch the Quidditch game at his hotel tonight, *please*?"  
  
Hermione, who was sitting at her desk writing what appeared to be a letter, turned in her swivel chair, took one look at the grip Harry had on Ron and Ron's stiff awkwardness at being in her bedroom, and laughed. "I see you two are getting along fine."  
  
"So can I go, Mom, please, can I go?" Harry questioned eagerly.  
  
"It's a Friday night, I don't see why not. Just floo him home by nine." She said, looking up at Ron.  
  
"No problem." Ron replied.  
  
"Well let's go then!" Harry practically shouted, tugging Ron out of the room and to the fireplace. Hermione leapt up from her seat after them.  
  
"Wait just a minute," she scolded. "Go put on a jumper, Harry."  
  
"It's not cold," Harry whined.  
  
"Go on, Harry. Wear the nice one your Grand-mum sent you."  
  
"Do I *have* to?"  
  
"Yes. Go."  
  
Harry slumped away to his bedroom, and emerged a moment later wearing a maroon sweater with a large, green "H" on it. He looked rather uncomfortable.  
  
"That's better." Hermione said, pulling the sweater down, and leaning over to give her son a kiss on the cheek, which he hastily wiped off. He galloped to Ron.  
  
"Shall we?" Ron grinned, grabbing a fistful of floo-powder off the mantle in one hand and taking Harry's palm in the other. Harry nodded and they stepped onto the hearth. "Wizarding Waldorf!" Ron shouted and they were whisked away to the lobby of the resort.  
  
They stepped out into the grandest entryway Harry had ever seen. "Wow," He whispered, taking in his surroundings.  
  
"Just wait till you see Hogwarts. The great hall there makes this place look like a dump." Ron exaggerated.  
  
Harry said nothing. He just followed Ron to the lift looking at all of the marble columns, high ceilings, and cushioned benches. They stepped into the small compartment and Ron clicked the "15" button. They arrived on Ron's floor and went to his room where he stated his password ("Diricawl").  
  
Harry was equally impressed with the room his father was staying in. It had large windows, looking out onto the muggle part of the city and King-sized bed with a lovely duvet. Harry slipped his shoes off and threw his sweater on the floor.  
  
Ron ordered room service and turned on the TV. They sat on bed, eating chicken, drinking pumpkin juice, and watching the Chudley Cannons lose terribly to Manchester United. "You know, I took the place of their keeper when he left Hogwarts" Ron had said. They talked about Quidditch and school. Harry told Ron how he had magical outbursts often and wished he didn't have to go to school. Ron told Harry about how much fun he would have when he went to Hogwarts, and how much his uncles and aunt would love him.  
  
At the end of the night, Ron took Harry back down to the lobby and sent him home. "'Night, Dad!" Harry said, waving goodbye.  
  
Ron held back tears of joy when he replied, "Good night, Son."  
  
He headed back to his room in a daze from the day's events. He had found Hermione, met his son for the first time, and bonded with him like he'd always imagined bonding with his son.  
  
When he arrived back at his room, he noticed that Harry had left his sweater. He picked it up. It was a home-knitted. He never knew Hermione's mum could knit. The wool felt soft and familiar.almost *too* familiar. He held it out to get a better look. It was a shade of maroon he knew all to well. The thickness of it was the same as all jumpers he'd worn all his life. He gasped with fury as realization struck him-this was clearly a Weasley sweater.  
  
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A/N: Well, thank God I'm done with that chapter. Chapter 4 should be out much sooner. I actually know exactly what's going to happen. Now do me a teensy-tiny favor and review! Thank you so much! -Jody 


	4. Memories

A/N: I only changed the second half of this chapter. If you've already read it, please start at the part where Ron is collapsed on the floor crying.  
  
I really hope you enjoy this. Thank you for reading.  
  
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Ron apparated back to Hermione's apartment as fast as he could. Hermione jumped from the couch where she was curled up reading at the loud CRACK.  
  
"Oh Gods, Ron!" Hermione gasped, catching her breath, "You scared me half to death!" She leaned against the arm of the sofa for support.  
  
"You need to get your wards checked," Ron said sternly.  
  
Hermione exhaled, "Blood relatives of Harry and I can get past them." She straightened up and crossed her arms. "What are you doing here, anyways?"  
  
"Harry left the jumper his *grandmother* gave him at my hotel." Ron scowled.  
  
"Oh, Ron, you didn't have to come all this way tonight. You could have waited until tomorrow." She reached out to take the sweater from Ron, but he pulled back.  
  
"Tell me, Hermione," he said venomously, "when did your mother learn to knit so well?"  
  
She took a step back. "Well-"  
  
"And tell me, Hermione," He continued, stepping closer to her, "when did Harry receive this lovely sweater? Christmas perhaps?"  
  
"Er..."  
  
"And tell me, Hermione," He raised voice, "Does my entire fucking family know about Harry or did you only tell my mother!?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ August 31, 1998  
  
A fire blazed in the living room of the large, 3-bedroom flat. The occupant of the empty third bedroom had died exactly three months before. A tall, redheaded eighteen-year-old watched his girlfriend stare blankly at a picture of three eleven-year-olds. A tear rolled down her cheek. She stood in front of the fireplace and he crossed the room to wrap his arms around her waist and whisper, "Kiss me, Hermione,"  
  
She turned her head away. "Why, Ron?" She sniffed.  
  
"Because you love me," Ron frowned.  
  
She thought for a moment then looked back into his eyes. "What did we do today?" Hermione asked, her voice serious.  
  
"Well," Ron tried to figure out the answer Hermione was looking for, "We got up. We put lilies on Harry's grave. We went to Gringott's and cleaned up Harry's vault. We had a little argument, and now," he pressed his lips softly against her forehead, "now we're making up."  
  
"That's just it," Hermione sighed, "that's all our relationship is; mourning Harry, bickering with each other, and well, frankly," she paused, struggling with the word, "shagging."  
  
"Don't you.like-"  
  
"That's not the point, Ron." Hermione interrupted, "The point is, our relationship has no purpose. We can't even talk anymore without arguing."  
  
"We're talking now, aren't we?"  
  
"That's not what I meant. I meant we never have interesting conversations about things that are happening or books or old memories or even Quidditch."  
  
"Maybe if you gave it a little more effort we wou-"  
  
"I'm not making an effort?! I try and talk to you every day, and what do you do? You push my buttons and-"  
  
"I DO NOT! You're the one who won't listen to a God-damn thing I say-"  
  
"Don't swear, Ron! And I do to listen to everything you say that has any importance!"  
  
"Well how can you know what is or isn't important if you don't listen to everything!?"  
  
Hermione screamed through clenched teeth. "This is what I'm talking about, Ron!" She yelled. "We just argue all the time! I'm going to bed." She turned around, heading towards her bedroom, as Ron followed her. She stopped and said, "My own bed...ALONE!" She hurried into the room, and slammed the door behind her.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next morning Ron awoke early and made a feeble attempt at hot cereal and eggs to bring Hermione in bed. He placed the breakfast on tray with a class of pumpkin juice and proceeded to Hermione's room. He wanted to be the first thing she saw when she roused from her slumber so he decided not to knock. He balanced the tray on one arm and turned the doorknob with the other.  
  
He was taken by surprise to see Hermione rushing about the bedroom, folding clothing and stuffing it into her trunk. "What are doing?" he gasped.  
  
She stopped for a moment, dropping a white blouse into the case. "I'm leaving, Ron," she said.  
  
Ron felt what could only be described as his heart in his throat. "What?" He choked out. "Where? For how long?"  
  
She placed her hands on her hips. "I going...somewhere," she said, an unreadable expression across her face, "to stay with my cousin, Claire. I don't know for how long exactly, but don't expect me back anytime soon."  
  
"But, but today's orientation. I thought-"  
  
"I'm sorry, Ron. I think I'm going to get a job somewhere and re-enroll for healer training next year. You should probably get some roommates."  
  
"How can you do this, Hermione?!" Ron dropped the tray on the floor, oatmeal and pumpkin juice spilling everywhere. "I didn't get all 'E's on my N.E.W.T.s because I wanted to be a healer. I worked my ass [arse?] off so I could be with you!"  
  
"What am I supposed to say?" Hermione retorted. " I can't do this any more. I need a change and I think you do, too."  
  
"I thought you loved me!" Ron cried.  
  
Hermione resumed her packing with her wand, flicking things across the room and into the trunk. "I don't even know the meaning of love," she said softly.  
  
"Hermione," Ron tried to gather himself, "this past year has been the best of my life. Even after I lost the best friend I ever had, I still had you, the most wonderful friend and lover a man could ask for. Don't do this to me," he pleaded. "Don't leave me all alone."  
  
Hermione tapped her now full trunk and it disappear. With the simple words, "I'm sorry," she Apparated away, and for the first time since the death of his best friend, Ron collapsed to the floor and wept for hours.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Before she went to the US, though, Hermione felt the need to say goodbye to someone else.  
  
She knocked on the front door of the burrow, peeking through the window into the kitchen beside it. Mrs. Weasley promptly answered it with a delighted, "Hello, Hermione! What are you doing here?"  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and answered, "I've come to say goodbye."  
  
Molly's face fell. "I beg your pardon?" she asked.  
  
"May I come in?" Hermione requested.  
  
Mrs. Weasley nodded and led her through the kitchen, and into the living room, beyond. Hermione took a seat in an armchair facing Mrs. Weasley, who was seated on the sofa. "As you know," she began slowly, "Ron and I have been having a lot of problems lately. I decided that it would be best if, if we, well, we took a break from our relationship for a while. I've actually already moved out of the flat."  
  
"Oh, Hermione, I completely understand," Mrs. Weasley said calmly. "After everything you two have been through it's only natural to take some time away from each other, but just because you aren't with my son, it doesn't mean we still can't be friends. You know you can always come to me for anything, and I'll be patiently awaiting the day when you and Ronald rekindle your relationship."  
  
"Well, that's the thing," Hermione said nervously. "I'm moving to the United States, for six months to a year, at least."  
  
"Oh," Mrs. Weasley replied, clearly biting her tongue to prevent an angry outburst, "well, this is unexpected."  
  
"I just wanted to thank you for helping me so much over the past few years," Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes and brushed them away quickly, "and I really feel that I wouldn't have made it through these hard times without your help and guidance."  
  
Molly smiled, in spite of herself, "you're very welcome. I can't say I'm pleased, but if this is what you need, then I won't stop you."  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"Promise to write?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
September 19, 1998  
  
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Her-my- own-neeee, happy birthday to you!" Claire sang as the waiter placed a slice of chocolate cake, with a lone candle burning in it in front of Hermione. "Blow out your candle!"  
  
Hermione, whose face clearly revealed that she was threatening to burst into tears, gave a week exhale that hardly made the candle flicker.  
  
Claire chuckled, "Birthday blues? C'mon, you're only 18!"  
  
The tears that were waiting to fall poured from Hermione's eyes and into her cake, one extinguishing the flame. "What am I going to do?"  
  
"What's going on? Are you okay?" Claire asked, concerned.  
  
Hermione's head fell onto her fists. "I'm pregnant," she whispered.  
  
"What'd you say?" Claire leaned closer.  
  
Hermione lifted her head and said more clearly, "I'm pregnant."  
  
"Oh, okay...well...okay," Claire nodded, trying to think of the right think of the right thing to say, "are you sure?"  
  
"Yes," Hermione shook her head, "I'm three weeks late, and I did a little spell to check. What am I going to do, Claire, what?"  
  
"Have you considered going back to England?"  
  
"Yes, but I just don't think I'm ready yet. And to make it worse, Ronald's mother wrote me today. She wanted me to tell her everything that was going on with me, and I can't lie to that woman, but if I do tell her she'll probably talk me into going back, and I just don't think it's time to go back yet."  
  
"But you're going to tell your boyfriend, right?"  
  
Hermione made a sick face, "That will make things even worse."  
  
"How, may I ask, will that make it worse?"  
  
"If I tell Ron what's going to happen? He's going to drop out of the school he barely managed to get into in the first place. He's going to come over here and force me to marry him, which is going to sound like a brilliant idea when I first see him again. Then we'll have a baby and we'll be miserable until death do us part. I just don't want my child to grow up with her parents fighting all the time, you know? It messes kids up." Hermione sighed as her mind flashed to something that Harry had once said about Snape watching his parents fight.  
  
"So you're going to deprive the child of a father just because you don't want to deal with your ex? Isn't that a little selfish?"  
  
"Oh, God, Claire, I know it's selfish, but what am I supposed to do?"  
  
"I don't know, Hermione," Claire agreed, "but you got yourself into this, you have to get yourself out."  
  
Hermione chewed her lip, thinking. "I think I'm going to tell his mother," she said softly.  
  
"Are you sure about that?" Claire asked.  
  
"Well, she did write to me today, asking what was going on, and I feel as if I should tell her. I know she'll insist I come back, but maybe she'll also have some advice to give. The woman *has* had seven children, you know."  
  
Claire sighed, "This is your choice, Hermione, you have to do what you think is right."  
  
"Yes," Hermione decided confidently, "I'll tell her. I'll beg her not to tell Ron, but if she wants to, I guess I can't stop her."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As Hermione finished her tale, both she and Ron were in tears. He looked up at her and shook his head, "I hate you."  
  
------------------------------ -------------------------------------- ------ ---------------- ------------  
  
A/N: Hope you like the subtle changes I made. I know I do. Feel free to E-mail me at BBDucky1@aol.com if you have any questions, comments or concerns. Oh, and PLEASE review if you have a moment. 


	5. Making Up

A/N: First of all, if you haven't already read the rewrite of Chapter four, GET ON IT! I did very poorly with the original chapter, and I'm embarrassed that I even posted it. I think it's much better now, and I hope that everyone reads it and tells me what they think of the new version.  
  
Second of all, thanks to all of my reviewers, but 50 house points to Athene, with whom I completely agree on all the things she brought up. Even though there is some OOC-ness and things that wouldn't happen, I wrote this fic for a few specific reasons which I listed after the chapter.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I hate you."  
  
Hermione sobbed and nodded, "I know."  
  
"No!" Ron yelled, standing up from the couch. "You don't know! How could you possibly know how it feels to find out the two people you trust above anyone else in the world have been lying to you for seven years!?"  
  
"Just...Just calm down, Ron, please!"  
  
"No! After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me!? I took the Cruciatus Curse for you. I barfed up *slugs*--for you! And you, you hide my own child from me for years, and you tell my own mother! I mean, what's wrong with you!? You, you're sick!"  
  
"Maybe I was trying to do what was best for my child! Did you ever think of that!?" Hermione rose to meet Ron level although she was still several inches shorter than him.  
  
"What was best!? Giving him a father! That's what's best for a child!"  
  
"Don't you think I thought of-"  
  
"Obviously you didn't think en-"  
  
Their voices crescendoed; their words lost in the noise until a small whimper of, "Mommy," brought them to silence.  
  
They stopped and looked to the corner of the room where a small, freckle- faced boy in bright orange pajamas stood, his lower lip trembling.  
  
Hermione sighed and beckoned him with her hand. He ran to her, and with a bit of effort, Hermione managed to lift him. He wrapped his legs and arms around her as she looked at Ron and said, "*This* is why I never came back."  
  
She turned and headed out of the room, and Ron could see Harry crying on her shoulder. He suddenly felt a tug, a twinge, a pang at his heart. He had made his son cry. By simply engaging in an activity that he had taken part in hundreds of times before, he had scared the person that he wanted love from more than anyone else.  
  
He fell onto the couch and picked up the book Hermione had been reading before he had showed up. It was titled Muggle Schools & the Magical Child. He flipped to the page she had bookmarked. It fell open easily, as if it had been turned to hundreds of times before. The chapter was labeled, "Handling Uncontrolled Magical Outbursts."  
  
Ron sighed, thinking of all the things that Hermione had to manage as a young, single mother. Even though he still held a hard grudge towards her for keeping Harry from him, he was beginning to see her motives.  
  
Hermione returned to the room and took her place on the couch beside Ron. He looked up at her and said, "I'm so stupid Hermione, I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."  
  
"No, Ron," she put her hand on his, "you had every right. I did a terrible thing to you, and," she paused, taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry."  
  
Ron nodded, "I can't forgive you yet. I don't know if I'll ever be able to, but I'm starting see where you're coming from and why you did what you did. I still have a few questions, though."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"First of all, what happened with my mother? How did you get her to not tell anyone, and what did she do to you when you told her?"  
  
Hermione smiled wearily, "Well, first, there were the Howlers. She sent me one everyday for two weeks. To her, I was the 'scarlet woman who corrupted her son.' She was so angry. I knew she was doing what she thought was best, but I wasn't ready. I needed time. Ron, our relationship has never been the best, and with our best friend gone, I couldn't handle it. I knew I'd be ready eventually. I told your mum every time I wrote that I'd be back soon, and I'd tell you then. We both agreed that it would be best if I told you about the baby myself. I planned on coming back right after he was born. I wanted to be back for the anniversary of Harry's death. But *our* little Harry was two weeks late," Hermione continued, "born on the day I dreaded."  
  
"May 31st," Ron murmured.  
  
"Anyway, after that, I got settled. When I should have been making plans to return, I was making plans to go to Healer training in the autumn. I told your mother I was only going to do it for a little while, then I'd come back and tell you. Unfortunately, I never made it."  
  
"I understand," Ron said quietly. "I have another question, though."  
  
"Ask away."  
  
"Today, this afternoon..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Why didn't you tell me about him then? Why did I have to pry it from you?"  
  
"Oh, God, Ron, I love him so much. I didn't want to lose him, and I didn't want you to hurt him. I love Harry more than anything in the entire world- Anything. When I was with you today, instead of thinking, 'finally, Harry'll have his father,' I thought, 'what if his father wants to take him away from me? What if his father doesn't love him the way he should? What if his father doesn't want him?'"  
  
"How could you think that!?" Ron interrupted, his voice clearly showing his pain. "When I saw him, I thought my heart would burst. I can't imagine loving anything more than I love him and I've only known him for a few hours!" He paused, catching his breath. "But you know what? You're right. I do want to take him away. Not away from you, but I have to go back in a week. What am I going to do? I can't live without him now."  
  
"It's okay, Ron, we'll figure out some sort of arrangement. You'll spend this week with him then when you go back, he'll...we'll...you'll...well, I'm not sure yet but, we can talk about it with Harry before you leave."  
  
Ron ran a hand through his hair, leaning back onto the couch. "I feel so cheated," he said softly. "I've missed everything in my little boy's life. Everything, Hermione, everything. Can you even imagine how that feels?"  
  
Hermione shook her head and sniffed, "No. I really can't. I just, I made so many mistakes, Ron. I don't think I can ever make it up to you."  
  
"I don't think you can, either. Just, just tell me about him. What was he like when he was little?"  
  
Hermione smiled. "Hold on a moment." She pulled out her wand and said, "Accio Photo Albums."  
  
A large cardboard box glided out of Hermione's bedroom and onto the couch beside her. She opened the top, pulled out a large baby-blue scrapbook, and handed it to a very excited Ron. The cover declared that it was "Harry's Baby Book." Ron hesitated a moment before opening it.  
  
"Go on," Hermione urged.  
  
Ron slowly opened the Album. In the center of the page there was a large picture of him and Hermione that he recognized from New Year's Eve of their seventh year. Hermione had one hand on his chest and was waving with the other. He had his arms around her waist and seemed completely oblivious to the camera. Below the picture was a caption that read, "Harry's Parents, Ron and Hermione."  
  
He turned the page to see a very pink, very wrinkly, and very naked newborn squirming around on what appeared to be a scale. His little mouth was open and Ron was sure that if photographs had sound, his ear drums would be shot. The caption said, "Harry Arthur Granger: May 31, 1999: 9 lbs 12 oz, 22 inches long."  
  
Hermione sighed, "I guess its Weasley, now."  
  
"Yeah," Ron murmered, clearly not paying attention, "He's so small."  
  
Hermione chuckled, "That's actually *quite* large for a baby. Trust me."  
  
"Hmm... I never understood American measurements. How big was he?"  
  
"About... fifty-five or sixty centimeters. "  
  
Ron smiled proudly. "That's my boy."  
  
They continued past Harry's first solid foods, first teeth, and first steps. (Hermione had a little anecdote to go with each one.) Ron stopped at Harry's first word. There was a picture of Harry wearing denim dungarees, his orange hair glowing, babbling what seemed to be gibberish. That caption claimed that the word was "Mummy."  
  
"It's not true," Hermione said as Ron looked over the page.  
  
"What's not true?"  
  
"His first word; it wasn't 'Mummy.'"  
  
"What was it then?"  
  
"Da-won."  
  
Ron looked at her like she was crazy.  
  
"It's a combination of 'dad' and 'Ron,' I think," she explained. "I always showed him pictures of you. I wanted him to know who his father was. I told him you were his daddy and that you were Ron. One day he just pointed your photograph and said, 'Da-won.' He called me 'Mummy' the about a week later and since not only was 'Da-won' difficult to explain, but I felt guilty just thinking about it, I left it at 'Mummy.'"  
  
Ron felt tears spring to his eyes. So, Harry had always known who his dad was, even if he didn't know him personally.  
  
They finished looking at the baby books and moved onto later albums. They flipped through pictures of Harry going to school, Harry's kindergarten graduation, Harry on a broomstick, and Harry playing with a blond-haired, blue-eyed man that Ron could only describe as a "pretty boy."  
  
"Who the hell is that?" Ron asked, clearly jealous.  
  
"Oh, Albert," Hermione replied nonchalantly, "he's just a Bulgarian Quiddich player I had a fling with."  
  
"EXCUSE ME?!?" Ron coughed incredulously.  
  
Hermione burst out laughing. "I'm kidding, Ron. He works with me at the hospital. He was my boyfriend for about a year. He even asked me to marry him, but I turned him down."  
  
"Oh," Ron said, trying to act as if it didn't bother him. "Why?"  
  
"I didn't love him."  
  
Ron simply nodded feeling surprisingly happy at Hermione's small remark.  
  
Ron closed the album he was looking and fished to the bottom of the box, where he found one that looked vaguely familiar. He flipped to a page in the middle to see a photo of a wedding that, judging by the awful hair and clothing, took place in the seventies. Though the redheaded bride and her black haired groom reminded Ron of an old friend, the only person he truly recognized was the best man--Sirius Black. "This is Harry's parents!" Ron exclaimed. "Where did you get this?"  
  
Hermione leaned over from the scrapbook she was looking at. "That? Oh, Harry left all of his books to me and I guess this got mixed up in them. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Ginny's been looking for this for years."  
  
"You can take it home to her, if you'd like," Hermione offered.  
  
"Yeah, I think I will." Ron gazed at the picture. "It truly was a beautiful wedding."  
  
"I know." Hermione scooted closer to get a better view. "I hope my wedding is as wonderful as that."  
  
"Me too." They looked up at each other at the exact same moment. Their lips were inches apart and they could feel the other's breaths on their mouth.  
  
"You should go," Hermione whispered.  
  
Ron shook himself and stood up. "You're right. I'll be back around 9 tomorrow if that's okay."  
  
"Yeah, great."  
  
Ron disapparated instantly.  
  
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Six days later, Ron sat on a tiny bed, with a six-year-old attached to his neck. "Harry," he said, "I need to go."  
  
"NO!" Harry shouted.  
  
"It won't be that long before I see you again. Just 21 days. That's only three weeks."  
  
"Can't I go with you, Daddy?" Harry whined.  
  
"You have to go school and get good grades to make your mum and I proud." Ron rubbed his son's back.  
  
Harry started crying into Ron shoulder and Ron couldn't help but cry along with him. "I wanna.go.with.YOU!!!" He wailed.  
  
"Hey, Harr," Ron sniffed, "I want you to come with me as much as you do, but you just can't. I promise we'll be together before you know it." He felt Harry nod into his shoulder and loosen his grip around Ron's neck. Ron pulled Harry's hands to his sides and watched him lay down in his bed. "I love you, Harry," he said softly.  
  
Harry yawned, "I love you, too, Dad."  
  
Ron stood up and flipped the light out. He closed the door and padded to Hermione's bedroom. He lightly rapped on the door.  
  
"Come in!" Hermione called.  
  
Ron opened the door slowly to see Hermione furiously writing something at her desk. "Umm, Hermione," he said. She said nothing and didn't look up. "I...er.got you something,a long time ago, for your 18th birthday," he chuckled. "It originally had a question to go with it, but, you know, things change. I would have returned it, but it's engraved so, I'll just leave it on your dresser. See you at Christmas. Bye."  
  
"Goodbye, Ron," Hermione still didn't look up. Ron walked slowly out the door, and after she heard him disapparate, she let out a choked sob. She spun around in her chair and glanced at her dresser. Sitting on the top was a small, black-velvet box.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N2: If you're content with this story, please take a moment to leave a review. If not, please read on.  
  
I wrote this story for a few reasons. Mainly, I've read WAY too many fics where Harry leaves Ginny to go fight Voldemort or be an Auror (or any reason similar to that) and when he come's back there's a little boy named James, they have wild, unprotected sex, and everything is Happy-go-lucky. While I have thoroughly enjoyed all except one of these fics (which I will not name), I felt that there should be a fic where the parents split up because things change and people change. I had to think of which characters would be likely to break up because of this, and since Harry doesn't seem like the type to have a relationship with someone who will get so pissed that she would need to walk out or he himself would leave, I decided to have the couple be the ever fighting, ever feisty pair, Ron and Hermione. I felt guilty about having Ron leave Hermione single and with a child, so I made Hermione be the one who left, not out of fear but because she thought she was done with her relationship with Ron. As for the whole, "Mrs. Weasley knows thing," sure, it's OOC, but it makes for good angst. Having said that, please leave a review, and flames are accepted but not welcomed.  
  
-OfTheWest 


	6. Coming Back

A/N: Can you believe it? I finally did it. Thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoyed it and be sure to leave a review, if only a short one.

Hermione gasped, taken off guard. She forced herself out of the chair. _It couldn't be; could it?_ she wondered, stepping closer slowly, as if the box were toxic. She brought her hand to her lip for a moment before placing it on the case.

She picked it up and snapped it open. Inside was the most beautiful and delicate ring she'd ever seen. A silver or white gold (Hermione couldn't tell) band held a small round sapphire with tiny diamonds on each side. Not only was it her birthstone, but the color of Ron's eyes.

She felt tears welling again in her eyes that rolled softly down her cheeks when she saw the simple engraving on the inside: R&H.

Ron and Hermione. Ron and Harry. The two letters joined by an ampersand meant only one thing to Hermione. Love. A love that she had given up and given up on. A love that she had prevented. She assumed it was meant to be an engagement ring, and the thought pained her. Ron was going to ask her to marry him, and she walked out with his heart and his baby.

She sat down on her bed, trying to gain control of herself. Then she did what any woman in her position would have done; she slipped the ring on the ring finger of her left hand, and, oh, how it fit! It was like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for 7 years and was finally in place.

All she wanted to do was run to Ron's hotel room and tell him that she wanted to be with him, but a little nagging voice in her head stopped her. She tore off the ring and was about to put it back in the box when she hesitated, slipping it onto her right ring finger.

It was only eight o' clock, so she sat back at her desk to get some work done. It quickly occurred to her that she had no work to do, so she decided to write a follow up letter to Mrs. Weasley. The last time she had written was a warning that Ron most likely wouldn't be speaking to her for quite a while. Hermione also included how well Ron and Harry were getting along. This time she intended to write about her plans to visit with little Harry for the Christmas holiday. Unfortunately, all she could manage to write was,

_Dear Molly,_

_How could you let me stay here?_

Since that clearly wasn't working, she decided to call it a night. She tossed and turned in her bed for about an hour before she realized that it was no use. She threw on some clothes and went to her fireplace to floo the neighbor.

"Hermione," Mr. Shultz smiled upon seeing her face in the fireplace, "what has you calling so late?"

"Am I interrupting anything?" Hermione asked politely.

"Does it look like you're interrupting anything?" he laughed.

She blushed. "May I ask you a favor?"

"Anything."

"Well," Hermione said, "I have a very important errand to run. I was wondering if you could take Harry for a couple of hours."

"I'd _love_ to have Harry for a little while. I'll just make up the couch for him." He pulled his wand from the table beside the large armchair he was seated in and pointed it towards the couch, which quickly covered itself in blankets and pillows.

"I can't thank you enough," Hermione sighed. "We'll be over in a few minutes."

She stood from the fireplace and walked into Harry's room. She sat on his bed and watched him sleeping for a moment. She touched his cheek softly and his eyes fluttered open.

Upon seeing his mother, Harry scowled and rolled over.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "I know you're mad at me, but I need you to help me."

Harry just groaned and pulled the covers over his head.

Hermione tugged them down. "C'mon, will you please, please, please just do a favor for your mum and sleep at Mr. Shultz's flat tonight? I really need to go do something."

Harry sighed dramatically and got out of bed. He was used to spending the night at the neighbor's house when Hermione had to go to the hospital for night shifts and emergencies.

After Harry was settled in and fast asleep on the neighbor's couch, Hermione apparated to the lobby of his hotel and rushed to the front desk where she immediately demanded Ron's room number. The witch at the front desk smiled. "Of course," she nodded, lifting a phone to her ear, "let me just call up and check with him. What should I say this is regarding?"

Hermione thought for a moment, "tell him that….er…Harry wanted to see him one last time."

The woman looked at Hermione skeptically, "Harry?"

"Yes, Harry."

She dialed the number and waited a moment before putting the phone down. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley has a 'do not disturb' on his phone line. Many wizards use that when they don't know how to use the phone. I guess you'll just have to try again in the morning."

"Listen, this is sort of an emergency. I really _must _see him."

"And why, may I ask?" The woman replied snottily.

"Because," Hermione improvised, "I'm his…fiancé…and…I'm pregnant with his child…and I haven't told him. You see, our wedding is not until April, and I really must tell him now so that he can reschedule the wedding to an, um, earlier time."

The woman's eyes grew wide as she scanned around the lobby, before leaning towards Hermione and whispering, "I know _exactly_ how you feel. He's in room 1106." She stood up straight and nodded. Hermione turned towards the lift, glancing back over her shoulder momentarily to wonder how this woman knew how she "felt."

Hermione stood on the elevator, twisting the ring around her finder. The wide doors slid open, and she steadied herself as she walked down the hall. She arrived at room 1106, standing to breath for a moment.

She noticed a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, which caused her to hesitate before knocking. There was no reply. She knocked again, but still, nothing. She slammed her fist against the door and was about to scream when she heard, "Can't you read the bloody 'Do Not Disturb—'" The door swung open and Ron stopped talking.

They stood looking at each other for a few tense minutes. Ron had clearly just stepped out of the shower. He wore nothing more than a white bathrobe and droplets of water glistened on his skin. He sighed, running a hand through his dripping red hair. "What are you doing here?"

"I…I had to talk to you."

"Oh. I have to pack. Why don't you come in," he offered, his voice showing no emotion. She followed him inside and sat in the small wooden chair beside the room-service strewn table. "So," Ron said, stuffing a pair of jeans into his suitcase, "what did you need to talk about?"

"Well, I—" Hermione began, but Ron cut her off by saying, "Is Christmas not going to work for you? Should I wait until Easter to see Harry again? Or maybe his effing Summer vacation would fit in with your busy schedule more accordingly. Better yet, I'll just see my boy when he comes to Hogwarts. I'll take the thankless teaching job they've been offering me for years. At least I'd get to see him every day."

"Stop!"

"Or were you even planning on sending him to Hogwarts?" Ron continued, ignoring Hermione gasps of shock and offense. "Maybe you want to send him to a damn Muggle high school and he can go do a damn Muggle university and he can forget ALL of his damn wizarding roots! Is that what you want?" He turned from his suitcase.

"No!" Hermione yelled.

"Fuck it, Hermione. I should have listened to everyone else who told me to forget you. But I didn't. I listened to my mother, and I listened to my heart. And do you see where it got me? Still alone and with a six-year-old son I hardly know!"

Hermione dabbed tears from her eyes with the heels of her hands. "You have to forgive me, Ron," she sobbed. "I'm sorry. I need to make it up to you. I _need_ to!"

He shook his head and turned back to zip his suitcase. "Why are you here?"

"I…" Hermione breathed, trying to remember, "Because I…Why? Why did you give me the ring?"

Ron dropped the suitcase onto the floor. "I thought if I gave it to you at Christmas, it would send the wrong impression. I didn't want to further complicate things during the holiday."

Hermione nodded and waited a moment before asking, "Were you going to propose?"

Ron laughed. "We were kids then, Hermione. It was a promise ring. I wanted to promise you that I'd always take care of you."

"But if I _had _stayed…later…would you have?"

"Of course. I never would have left you in trouble like that." He sighed and sat down on the bed. "But you never really gave me the opportunity."

"I really did love you, Ron. I guess I just needed time to heal. There was so much pain that year."

"I know. I really did love you, too."

"And now?"

Ron looked down at his hands and back up with a calm, half-smile. "We'll talk about it at Christmas. You should probably go home to Harry."

"It's not urgent…He's in capable hands."

A silence settled between them as neither spoke for a few moments.

Ron reached out to touch Hermione's hand. "Then…stay?"

"All right."

_When you touch me like this_

_And when you hold me like that_

_It was gone with the wind_

_But it's all coming back to me_

_When you see me like this_

_And when I see you like that_

_Then we see what we want to see_

_All coming back to me_

_The flesh and the fantasies_

_All coming back to me_

_I can barely recall_

_But it's all coming back to me now_

_If you forgive me all this_

_If I forgive you all that_

_We forgive and forget_

_And it's all coming back to me_

_When you see me like this_

_And when I see you like that_

_We see just what we want to see_

_All coming back to me_

_The flesh and the fantasies_

_All coming back to me_

I can barely recall but it's all coming back to me now 

_-Celine Dion, "It's All Coming Back to Me Now"_

The End…or just The Beginning?

A/N: This is your last chance to leave a review! Please do. Any little message to say you enjoyed or hated or were bored by it would be much appreciated.

Thank you so so so much to all of my faithful readers, and an especially big thanks and huge hugs to ako, Prodigy Girl, Rai, Athene, Tiffiany-45, breeNbloom, BuckNC, Ronaholic, the-love-of-ron, oftheeast (aka, my fantabulous older sister Remy), Moldanubikum, relientKFAN, Colleen, some1 I don't know, Sammay (aka, the best friend a girl could ask for), Cayin-Moonchild, LissaGranger, Ronaholic, KTF (aka, the other best friend a girl could ask for), astral-monkey, icieyes, Molly (aka, the other other best friend a girl could ask for), Voldie on Varsity Track, Crystal, bluetowel, leelee, juliet's rose, Adipodes Poe, Shadow on the Wall, Laurella, k, lillypotterfan, red moonshadow, Puddles 4, ERSM###, Mary Sue Assassin, Disneyluver, Bella O, Tomoko Kaiba, gpotter, Andy from NY, astral-monkey, Bsugar, Elena, Miriam (if you're reading this, call me!), Nicole, and Koala Tangerine.

You all rock my world. Happy New Year and thanks for all your support!

-Jody


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